


Oh Romeo No Homeo

by Blue_eyed_Crow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 1600s Italy, Catholic influence, Dubious Medical Practices, Extreme Pining, Falling In Love, Homophobia, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance is...kinky, Lance's family - Freeform, M/M, Mab & faeries, Major Character Injury, Nicknames, Noble Keith, Noble Lance, Non-Graphic Violence, Permanent Injury, References to Shakespeare, Rivalry, Rivals to Lovers, Romeo & Juliet AU, Sexual Jokes, Teasing, but a hot one, caring keith, flirting but Lance doesn't realize it, long rants, semi-graphic depiction of injury, shakespeare would be proud, these boys are hopeless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_eyed_Crow/pseuds/Blue_eyed_Crow
Summary: Lance's life as one of the noblest families comes with great privilege, and bitter responsibilities. Facing rivals, sword fights, dances- all while trying to woo the ladies...well it's never easy. That just comes with be the most dashing man in town, and Lance is more than capable of rising to the challenge.Until he isn't.





	1. In Fair Verona

Leandro Iulio Capelti the youngest of the Capelti Family in Verona was a self proclaimed “ladies-man” and rival to the late Keiran Marmora Montagne. Except there’s one tiny, very easy to ignore problem-

_Keiran doesn’t care he’s Leandro’s rival._ Which defeats the purpose of family vendettas and rivalries.

“-and he just looked at me weird with his stupid face and judging me!” Leandro rants hands raising and falling like waves. His friend for life, through thick and thin, Hieronimo “Hunk”, listens impatiently.

“Lance, c’mon. You’ve been ranting about _Keith_ since midday.” He points out plucking an apple from a vendor on the street and pressing two coins into their palm. Leandro “Lance” huffs at the accusation.

“ _Keiran_ is my most hate rival! A Montagne! We’re bitter enemies to the very end Hunk! How do you not get this?” Lance hits Hunk’s hand making him drop the apple underneath a moving cart but doesn’t notice it in his ranting. Hunk stops a second to mourn it’s loss.

“Hunk!” Lance shrieks like a baby bird. Hunk looks up at the sky as if to ask for patience. He turns smile unnaturally large and terrifying. Immediately Lance shuts up.

“Lance you will drop the subject until tomorrow mourn _and_ you’ll buy me another apple,” He hisses between his teeth utterly done with his friend. Even a kind patient man has his limits. Lance gulps in fear and nods, tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

“Yessm,” He whispers. Hunk nods and turns back to the vendor. The transaction is repeated with Lance placing the money in his hand instead.

“I’m truly sorry Hunk.” Lance apologizes putting aside his pride. His eyes are wide and puppy-like, not for sympathy or pity but in sorrow. Hunk softens- he knows his friend meant no harm but Hunk cannot afford to waste even an apple in his house. He is unlike the Capelti’s.

“I know Lance. Just be more careful next time alright?” Lance grins in understanding, a beam of pure light or a small puppy being praised. The atmosphere is ruined as a man is thrown into the stall next to them donned in the dark blue of the Montagne house. A servant donned in bright orange follows after him, sword drawn. Lance steps forward.

“You there! What causes such an unruly commotion?” He asks the servant, voice commanding. The servant pauses eyes locking with the young Capelti’s.

“This Montagne has insulted my honor, and I merely defend it,” He says without a hint of remorse.

“Your honor,” Lance scoffs doing a 180 from the spoiled child earlier into a true lord. Hunk watches the change with pride. “Where’s your honor for the place in which you are fighting? The honor for the lives you’ve disrupted? The wares you’ve damaged? No sir, that is no honor.” He reprimands. The servant looks at him angrily but sheaths his sword anyway. He bows his head stiffly, and not deeply enough but Lance lets it pass and the servant goes on his way. Lance turns towards the fallen Montagne.

“You there. Next time you try and start a fight don’t do it within my sight.” Lance turns away marching towards Hunk with fire in his eyes. Hunk is proud. Until Lance starts complaining about the Montagne. Hunk sighs. One day.

  


The Capelti’s house is one of the grandest in the city, comparable only to the Montagne’s, and the Prince’s. Hunk always feels self-conscious even being within three feet of the house but Lance acts likes it’s nothing. Rich privilege he guesses. Lance dances on the bottom step, twirling to an imaginary beat.

“Tonight I will be the star, women will look at me and wish to lose their heads.” Lance grins devilishly at his quip. Hunk lifts one eyebrow but decides to humor him anyway. At least it isn’t Keith.

“Their maidenheads?” Hunk asks although he knows the answer. Lance positivity beams at Hunk and bursts in laughter. It’s so genuine Hunk cannot help but join in. Even if it was a truly terrible joke. As Lance quiets Hunk takes the opportunity to speak.

“Tonight Allura will be at the party and-” Hunk stops himself immediately as Lance’s eyes grow wide and comical.

“Oh Allura, light of my life, beautiful angel which causes women to faint in jealousy! Truly she’s attending? Oh blessed news- the horrid day has new hope, new light!” Lance gushes while Hunk sighs.

“Lance- LANCE!” Hunk shouts and shakes his friend. “Calm down with the thirst. Now promise me you won’t stalk Allura all night.” Lance looks pointedly away. “Lance promise me you won’t stalk Allura.” Hunk’s hands squeeze Lance’s shoulders a bit.

“Okay, okay  I promise Hunk- but she’s an angel, fallen from the stars with her ethereal beauty~” Lance sighs dreamily.

“She dyes her hair Lance,” Hunk tries to interject but his friend hears no more, dancing into his house like a lovestruck fool. He snorts. What a wonderful way to describe his friend.

  


Hunk collects his blood brother as the sun sets. The lovestruck fool dances in the street twirling and twirling. He accidentally bumps into the friar.

“Oh! Pardon me Friar I didn’t see you there,” Lance apologizes.

“No no m’boy. It’s fine. What has gotten you all a-twitter?” He asks. Lance sighs clasping his hands over his heart.

“My love will be attending a ball tonight and I plan to woo her.” He sighs. Coran cocks an eyebrow.

“Oh?” He says. Hunk rolls his eyes.

“Yes, the fair Allura.” He swoons and spins. Hunk does a gagging motion. His friend is a romantic fool.

“Haven’t you heard? Allura is joining the covenant tomorrow eve.” Coran cheerfully says. Lance stops heartbreak spreading across his features. “Well have fun at the dance anyway. I’ll be seeing you both!” Coran walks off whistling. Lance sighs turning back to the house.

“Where are you going?” Hunk asks grabbing his blood brother’s shoulder.

“Home. What’s the point if the love of my life isn’t there,” Lance sighs dramatically. Hunk frowns.

“Lance _I_ want to go to this party tonight. I want to dance with Shay and I don’t want to hear you mope the entire time okay?” Lance pouts folding his arms. “Okay?” Hunk repetes.

“Fine. But I get at least one dance with Shay, and you have to wingman for me.” Lance says. Hunk groans.

“Fine.” Lance perks right back up skipping. Hunk follows behind with a sigh.

 

The party is actually one of the lesser noble’s coming-of-age party for their daughter, which is just an excuse for the elite to party and party _hard._ The pair arrives in the crowded common area. They push through the people, loudly talking and laughing. A arm reaches out and grabs Hunk.

“Hieronimo Tsukiyako! I have a message from your mother- she needs you immediately!” A courier says delivering his message.

“Hunk what’s going on?” Shay asks walking up to the pair.

“I’m sorry Shay- there’s been an emergency. I have to go.” He says pulling her in for a kiss. “Lance please look out for Shay.” Lance tersely nods. “Bye love.” Hunk kisses Shay goodbye. The courier disappears.

“Well m’lady care for a dance?” Lance asks bowing.


	2. Bite my Thumb Sir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dance and the disaster that follows

Lance dances with Shay, laughing up a storm. The sweet baker spins and claps as the music swells and dips. Shay’s earrings jangle, her dark skin glowing in the candlelight. The song draws to a close leaving the pair breathless. 

“You don’t have to spend your night with me,” Shay huffs as they move to the side to take a breather. 

“Nonsense!” Lance proclaims puffing his chest out. “My honor would never let me abandon my friend to the wolves!” He dramatically gestures as if some actor on a stage. Shay giggles at his antics. Lance grins too, letting the mood fall a bit before speaking again. 

“Besides, I know what it’s like to spend what was intended to be a joyous night as nothing but a fly on the wall.” He fance pinches a bit, smile completely disappearing. Shay places her hand on Lance’s arm. Lance shakes himself of the somber mood, smile back in place. 

“Enough somber reminiscing! I’m parched-let’s go get ourselves a drink.” He leads the way through the crowd, carefully avoiding stepping on any lady’s foot. Shay maneuvers herself to walk by Lance’s side. 

“As sad as I am Hunk was unable to attend, I am glad I could spend the night with you,” She murmurs after a beat. The soft spoken truth causes Lance to jerk in surprise, overcome with emotion. Wordlessly, Lance plunks a wine glass from a server handing it to Shay. He snatches another for himself. They sip the dark wine in silence, festive mood all but gone at this point. 

“Lance,” Shay says pulling Lance so she can whisper into his ear, “Follow me.” She offers no more explanation as she takes off. Her grip is strong but not bruising as she drags Lance through the masses. She only slows down when she approaches the balcony doors. Lance, quickly guesses what she has planned and holds the door open for her. Shay passes with a quiet thanks.

 

The night sky glitters with thousands of stars, a wondrous intimidating view. Lance leans against the railing taken in the beauty of the sky, the ambient noise of the party, and the unpleasant odor of the city. Lance tips the wine glass back and breaths in the fumes. Below them, servants run around and the serving door clangs open and closed as they run amuck. Shay stands by his side, drinking her own glass in relative peace. 

“I wish I could walk among the stars,” Shay whispers voice thin and small like a stream. Lance nods in agreement, eyes tracing the small pinpricks of light in the navy darkness of the sky. 

“My Mamà used to call me her little star, and tell me that I had fallen from the heavens as the other stars were too jealous of my beauty and light.” Lance recounts, tears gathering in his eyes. Shay passes her handkerchief to him silently, waiting while he dabs as his eyes. Large crashes sound below them on the street, angry voices raising, followed by more crashes. 

“Oh dear, what is going on?” Shay asks leaning a bit over the rails. The voices cease, and an uneasy silence replaces it. The door behind the pair bursts open, the wooden frame snapping against the cold stone of the house. A masked raven hair man stands between them, looking surprised to find people on the balcony. 

“My good man what brings you here so speedily?” Shay inquires, concerned at the haste which the man showed. Lance stares at the raven’s face.  _ He recognizes them from somewhere… _ The masked figure smiles, wrinkling his porcelain skin. His stormy grey eyes flash with hidden fire. 

“Simply the hosts do not take kindly for my kind to be here.” The masked man sounds almost sad at that.  _ Lance recognizes that raven hair.  _

“For good reason you Montagne scum!” The Montagne’s eyes narrow flicking to Lance as if just realizing he was there. 

“And you are?” He has the audacity to ask. Shay grasps Lance’s bicep to keep the seventeen year old boy from doing anything too rash.

“You know who I am Keiran- do not pretend otherwise,” Lance growls annoyance at being insulted in such a manner setting in. Keiran blinks at him, still confused. “Leandro Capelti!” Nothing. “Sworn enemy to any and all Montagnes!” Keiran half shrugs as if Lance made a horribly dull statement. Suddenly recognition alights his eyes- those stormy grey eyes. 

“Oh- I remember you. You were the one to try and fight blindfolded nearly stabbing himself in the knee!” Lance flushes in embarrassment. Of all the things to remember..

“Oh Lance,” Shay sighs unfamiliar with the story-for good reason. 

“That’s-that’s not the point!” Lance accuses pointing his finger at the enemy. Keiran. The Montagnes. Lance doesn’t know exactly who he’s pointing at-which one is supposed to the enemy. He isn’t sure where the line begins or where it ends, but he pays those concerns little attention. After all, there’s a Montagne in his sights. Who needs to reason when the truth has been proclaimed over and over? 

Keiran snorts in amusement at Lance’s embarrassment, which only heightens his discomfort. The fool dances around acting out to get others to laugh at what he wants, but it is always is at him. 

“What is the point Capelti? That you are incompetent in the art of swords?” Keiran teases, a grin on his face. 

“I would take you myself if there weren’t a lady present.” Lance threatens hand touching the hilt of his sword. Keiran cocks an eyebrow almost mockingly. 

“I don’t believe you’d be man even to do it.” Keiran pushes past the pair and escapes into the party leaving Lance feeling unsatisfied. He unclenches his fists unaware that he clenched them in the first place. 

“Lance,” Shay murmurs getting Lance’s attention, “Let’s go home. I believe both of us have had enough of this party.” 

 

Shay leads the pair of them out of the party’s doors after saying goodbye to the hosts. It’d be rude to leave without a proper goodbye. Lance whispers small jokes to Shay as to not disrupt the tender silence of the night and bring the wrath of Mab upon the pair. They turn into an alley opting to take the quick way to Shay’s home rather than the main streets. 

“Hello there Capelti.” A voice calls from the shadows, dark blues nearly hiding the figure in darkness.

“Hello Montagne. If you’d be so kind as to let me and the lady pass.” Lance says waiting for the other to move. A tension fills the air, the bitter promise of a fight itching against his mind. 

The Montagne steps aside, albeit hesitantly. Lance positions himself between the enemy and Shay, eyes never leaving the Montagne until they pass. Lance breaths out in relief. Footsteps sound behind them and a body plows right into him. Lance tumbles to the ground, yanking Shay’s arm. She cries out in pain, and Lance is quick to let go. 

“Ha, you thought I’d let a pair of Capelti’s pass without defending my house?” They sneer, hovering over Lance like a vulture. Lance grimaces at the bloody mess his palms are after hitting the ground so harshly. 

“There is a lady present. Control yourself or do you have no honor?” Lance hisses back getting to his feet. Shay is quick to grab his arm and try to maneuver them away. The Montagne jerks forward sword drawn making threatening swipes at the pair. 

“The Capelti’s deserve no honor.” The Montagne growls. Lance tugs Shay. 

“I will not fight you for I do have honor.” The Montagne doesn’t take too kindly at the insult and lunges forward. 

Shay screams.

Lance thinks he might have pushed her. 

He lays on the ground blinking up dazed. Shay’s there. The Montagne is gone. Shay is crying and blubbering. He moves to sit up, but Shay won’t let him. Everything feels strange-off. His leg feels weird. He says as much. 

Shay sniffs. She tells him she’ll be back and makes him promise no to move. He stays still even when is leg starts to throb. 

It hurts. 

It hurts so much.

And he’s alone. God, he’s so alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Lance. Poor, poor Lance. I almost regret writing this.


	3. Violent Delight, Violent Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance struggles to heal and the situation. He also isn't expecting the surprise visitor.

He awakes to pain. His knee throbs, disjointed from the beating of his heart. His mind is unpleasantly fuzzy, and his skin is clammy. 

_ ‘My wonderful skin,’ _ Lance mourns trying to wipe his face. He shifts, and the throb turns into a white-hot poker. He whimpers, tears falling from his eyes. Voices carry from outside his door, becoming clear when it opens. 

“Lance!” One shourts- Marco. “Everyone Lance is awake!” Footsteps pound across the hallway, and his family piles into his room. 

“Oh Lance,” Veronica murmurs petting his hair. God, he must look awful if Veronica is being nice. 

“Am I truly dead or is Veronica being a decent sister for once?” He asks weakly. 

“Lance!” she cries outraged. Both Luis and Marco laugh heartedly.  They quiet when Lance moves and grimaces. 

“What-what happened?” Lance voice cracks over the words, mouth a little dry. It goes unnoticed as his family shares a look. 

“Oh darling,” His Mamà sighs sitting on the edge of the bed. She reaches out and wipes the tear tracts of his face. “My baby.” She kisses his forehead pulling him to her shoulder. He bites his lip at the pain but keeps quiet. 

“You were stabbed, right through your leg by a Montagne.” She whispers bitterly. Lance blinks. For all their talk, and competition the two households shared one rule: No blood.

“It went through all the way and into your other leg as well.” Marcus adds. Lance pales at the thought, his knee throbs in sympathy. 

“That’s enough,” Luis snaps. “He’s heard enough.” Marcus goes quiet, and Luis steps forward with a glass of wine. Lance takes it and drinks greedily. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs resting back upon his pillows. His family curls around him until the alcohol has taken effective and numbed his senses enough for him to sleep.

  
  


Lance stares at the bleak ceiling of his room ignoring everyone crowded around him. His older sister tries to pat his hand but he wretches it from her. He doesn’t want her pity. The doctor pulls his parents to the side so Lance wouldn’t hear. He can hear however the sharp gasp from his mother, the “poor boy” that drips from the doctor’s lips. He leaves, and his parents return to comfort him. He doesn’t want their comfort.

“Come, let’s give your brother space.” His Mamà says running her fingers through his hair when his stubbornness becomes apparent. His siblings file out of the room. His mother kisses his forehead. “Sleep,” she whisper walking out of the room. Lance stares at the ceiling letting time slip past. He must have fallen asleep at one point because when he awakes it’s morning and there’s a platter next to his bed. Lance turns away from it and closes his eyes. He awakes to someone stroking his hair. Marcus sits by his head, running his fingers through said hair. 

“Hey buddy,” He whispers as Lance blinks off the last dregs of sleep. He feels like a child again.

“Marcus,” Lance whispers gazing at his brother. He smiles bitterly and he turns away shifting his entire body as if trying to get away. His knee burns with pain at the movement and Lance sucks in a breath.

“Lance,” Marcus mumbles in worry. His brother continues to rub Lance’s hair as Lance blinks back tears. He closes his eyes trying to contain himself. It can’t be real. “Hey it’s okay,” Marcus murmurs. “You can cry.” At the permission Lance bursts in ugly sobs, the remors racking his body thus irritating his wounded knee. 

Eventually, Lance calms down, breathing slowing. His eyelids flutter. “Hey stay with me Lance,” Marcus says shaking Lance’s shoulder. Lance only hums. “ I have some nice warm soup for you buddy.” Lance turns his head looking at Marcus. He pushes Lance’s head up, and brings the bowl to Lance’s lips. “Good,” Marcus says as Lance drains the bowl. Marcus puts it aside and runs his fingers through Lance’s hair. His eyes droop and sleep claims the injured boy.

 

 

The pattern continues for week, each time Lance awakens one of his siblings is by his side with food and soothing words. There’s only so much rest one can have however. 

“ I want to go outside,” Lance says as Veronica draws by his side. The scratch of her pencil stills. 

“That’s.. Not very wise.” She says putting her supplies away. He shrugs staring outside. 

“Wise or not I am sick of being confined to this bed.” Lance mumbles wearily. Veronica is silent. 

“Can you stand?” She asks standing up herself. Lance swings his feet carefully over the edge knee throbbing but not enough to collapse in pain. Lance stands up and promptly falls back on the bed. His knee throbs, but it doesn’t burn to the extent where he cannot move. Veronica comes by his side and hoists him up. Lance, with Veronica’s help limps to the door. The sun is setting painting the sky in golds and oranges. Veronica lets Lance fo and he clings to the balcony’s edge. She leaves him and quickly returns with a stool. Lance sits, and rests his heels on the bottom of the balcony. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs. Veronica kneels and fiddles with the bandages around his knee and calf. She clasps Lance on his shoulder and drops a kiss on his forehead. 

“Call the maid when you’re ready okay?” He nods and Veronica leaves. Lance breathes the air, enjoying the slight breeze. After so many days tapped within the confines of his room it’s quite literally a breath of fresh air. The slight sunlight is a balm on his soul, taking away some of the displeasure of his injury. Some- but not all. Lance muses as he watches the sun slip past the horizon and darkness overtake the world. His skin prickles, hair standing up at the onslaught of the cool wind combined with the darkness. Lance stands carefully, hand reaching for the balcony to steady himself. He opens his mouth to call for the maid but hesitates. Lance starts to move, lips sealed shut. He ambles back into his bedroom and collapses onto his bed. Lance smiles bitterly at his success. 

  
  


Each night Lance hobbles out onto the balcony staring into the starry sky. There’s something intimate about the night that he, even now, cannot refuse to indulge. Sometimes, when it’s exceptionally still, he can hear soft voice lilting on the wind, strange foreign melodies trying to capture him and drag him off. The faeries don’t ever take him though-must have no room for a cripple in their kingdom. As he’s musing these things a pebble flies and bounces at his feet, the sound loud in the silence. Almost immediately the soft melody stops leaving Lance strangely empty, and more than a little irate because of it. Lance opens his eyes searching the darkness for the person who threw the pebble. 

“Lance,” they hiss their voice low and guttural. Like footsteps on gravel. Lance shivers expecting Mab herself to jump out and take him. They hiss his name again, voice floating from his side. A person- not a faerie, no wings- clings to the moss. Their dark raven hair and storm grey eyes alert Lance almost immediately to their identity. 

“Keiran.” Lance deadpans at the Montagne his face flatting into an unpleasant look. The Montagne looks taken back, anger flickering across his features. He opens his mouth to say something but holds himself back. Just barely, Lance notes. 

“Lance, I came here not to fight. How are your wounds?” Lance sneers at the Montagne. 

“Considering it was  _ caused  _ by a Montagne,” Lance pauses to gauge Keiran’s reaction, “I am doing marvelous Keiran.” Keiran perks up despite Lance’s bitter tone. 

“Keith.” He says. “And I’m glad.” He has the audacity to smile. Lance huffs turning away. 

“Great. You’ve seen me-now go scamper off.” Lance waves his hand over his shoulder trying to get Keiran to leave. 

“Look I was just-”

“Leaving. You were just leaving. You got what you wanted. Now leave.” Keiran inhales sharply but makes no move to leave. Lance gets up, pulling himself along the balcony. 

“Lance,” Keiran angrily says. LAnce limps with the help of the railing. 

“Didn’t you hear me I-” Lance stumbles, eyes taken off the balcony to glare at Keiran but he miscalculated the exact place where the balcony would be, hand meeting air. For a brief moment nothing happens. Then he falls. 

“Lance!” Keiran gasps vaulting over the railing. Lance shakes, the force of the blow focused on his knees. Keith places his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Lance,” he calls again. A whimper slid past his lips involuntarily as intense pain wracks his body. Keith picks him up, carrying him into his room like a blushing bride. Lance lets out a series of whimpers as each movement jostles the already painful area. Keith sets him down and quickly sets to work cutting open Lance’s bandages. Keith whispers soothing words trying to calm Lance. At the sight of the wound Keith sucks in a shaky breath. Lance looks upward, vision slightly blurry with tears. 

“You’re okay,” Keith mutters getting ahold of himself. Lance can feel Keith place a warm palm against his thigh. “Have...have you not looked?” He asks hesitantly. Lance shakes his head tersely still gazing up at the ceiling. “There’s no blood.” Keith offers him. Lance bites his lip and shakes his head again. He can’t, he  _ can’t, he can’t, he  _ can’t- 

“Lance, I’m right here. Right here.” Keith repeats pulling Lance’s hands and cupping them in his own. Lance nods slowly eyes locked on the ceiling. Keith waits patiently for Lance as he forces himself to lower his eyes. His gaze falls slowly to Keith. Keith, his rival and sworn enemy, tenderly holds his hands and nods encouragingly. They stare at each other as Lance shakes like a fallen leaf. Then his lowers his eyes the rest of the way. Thick gnarled white scars intertwine over the right side of his knee looping over the front.They are thick bands slightly raised run all over- twisting like dilapidated white worms. The right side of his knee caves in unnaturally while the left protrudes, straining the skin. His skin is blackened and flaking, burned or he supposed cauterized by the doctor. Lance rips his hands free clamping over his mouth as his stomach rolls. Tears slip onto his cheek and bile threatens to rise. He isn’t sure if his dinner wishes to make a reappearance of if that’s just disgust. Keith immediately eclipses the world, blocking the offending sight. His brow is creased in concern, hands fluttering by Lance’s side but not touching. 

“Hey it’s okay,” Keith chants trying to calm the shaken Capelti. Lance shoves himself forward burying his face in Keith’s collarbone. The Montagne freezes before wrapping his arms around the obviously upset Lance. “Well this is exactly how I thought this night would go,” Keith awkwardly jokes. Lance laughs wetly-oh he’s really crying. Keith pets his hair. 

“Really?” Lance sniffs. 

“...No. I was just trying to make you feel better.” Lance smiles and leans back. 

“I know.” Keith looks down and shifts back. 

“Don’t look,” He says lifting Lance’s face to the ceiling with a gentle but firm hand. “Here.” He mutters opening a drawer and taking something out. Lance almost jumps as soft cotton touches his sensitive knee. Keith quickly rewraps the healed wound. Once done he pats Lance’s calf awkwardly. “Hey, don’t fall again okay?” Keith doesn’t wait for confirmation before he’s slipping away. Running from him. Lance sits in silence looking at where Keith left, door tightly closed. His chest feels oddly hollow and no matter how hard he presses it doesn’t go away.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I really love hurting Lance.


	4. Fortune's Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is hopeless, Lance is hopeless, everyone's hopeless.

Keith doesn’t show up the next night, or the next. He doesn’t show up for a week.  Lance was given the clear to start walking again, but he doesn’t leave the house to search Keith out. Keith doesn’t show up for that week either. So Lance stays inside, limiting himself to hobbling to his balcony, to the kitchen, and to his bed. Lance hobbles down the stairs, cane in one hand, the other tightly clutching the railing. He learned his lesson the hard way. 

“Lance!” His Mamà calls overjoyed at him up and about- though a little disappointed he never leaves the house. “Look who’s here!” She beams gesturing to Hunk and Shay. They gaze awkwardly as Lance makes his way over to them. 

“Mamà, what are you up to?” Lance asks. His Mamà ducks her head.

“Lance, please don’t be mad…” Lance raises an eyebrow. “But, we’re here to go the market.” Hunk says worrying his hands together. 

“And we wanted you to come with us.” Shay adds. Immediately Lance spins on his Mamà. 

“Mamà!” He accuses pointing his finger at her. 

“You cannot spend your life locked in this house! As much as I’d love you to…” His Mamà shakes her head. “My baby.” She cups his head. Lance caves. What else can he do?

“Okay Mamà,” Lance murmurs. His Mamà kisses his forehead. 

“Be safe my baby.”

 

 

Lance limps besides the lovey dovey pair a scowl taunt across his features. It’s only mid morning but it’s hot, Lance is exhausted and emotionally drained. His knee is forever scarred, Keith hasn’t shown up in weeks after their little ‘bonding moment’, and everyone’s been actively ignoring the fact he’s a cripple now or treating him like glass. He’s sick of it. He’s sick of the stupid whispers that float around him, how Hunk and Shay ignore it. He’s sick of pretty much everything. The street vendors at least stare at him openly, which he guesses is better than in secret. Still, he feels the part of a strange deformed creature anew. 

“It sure is hot today,” Hunk says trying to engage Lance in conversation. Their slow pace leaves much opportunity for such. Lance just grunts, like he has all the other times they’ve tried to start a conversation. Hunk stops by a vendor and purchases some diriolas. 

“Why don’t we go eat these over there?” Hunk suggests pointing to an enclave complete with abench. Lance nods, making his way over to the shade. Eventually, they make it, taking far longer than Lance would’ve liked. The pair watches Lance as he all but collapses against the seat. The marble is cool from the shade and very finely crafted. Lance frowns as he realizes they’re sitting in the Montagne plaza’s uppermost corner. Only the Montagne would spend that much on finely crafted seats. However, Lance can’t find it in himself to sneer at them when he’s benefitting from one of their more peculiar spending habits. He closes his eyes to rest, just for a few beats. 

“Well, well, well if it ain’t a Capelti sitting on our land, enjoying our seats.” A voice-a Montagne’s voice drawls. Lance opens his eyes. He honestly can’t recognize anything of importance from the Montagne-other than the dark blue colors all Montagne’s sport. A distant cousin. Out-of-town relative. A new servant. Could be anyone. 

“This land belongs to the city Montagne- gifted by the graciousness of Lord Montagne for all to enjoy,” Lance sighs closing his eyes again. Capelti has its own plaza as well- differently decorated but with the same purpose. The Montagne shuffles a bit put off.  

“Yeah well it is the Montagne’s.” The man replies, his body stiff as if itching for a fight. 

“Back off. It’s not the Montagne’s, it’s open land.” Hunk seethes standing up ready to protect his friend. Admirable but unnecessary. 

“Hieronimo, enough. We’ll just move.” Lance snaps. The Montagne looks smug at the accomplishment. Hunk bites his lip as if he wants to say more, but because it’s Lance who said it, poor injured Lance, he says nothing. Lance stands, leaning heavily on his cane. The trio begins to walk away slowly. Apparently not fast enough for the Montagne. A large piece of garbage hits the back of Lance’s head. 

“That’s right run you cripple!” They shout already running away. Hunk growls and leaps after them, a bloodhound after a criminal. Lance sighs but does nothing to stop Hunk. 

“Shay?” He pleads. “Please take me home.” All the way across from him by the vendors stands Keith looking like a rabbit in a hunt. They make eye contact. Lance knows Keith saw the entire thing. Lance turns away first. Shay places her hand on Lance’s shoulder. 

“If that’s what you need.” She murmurs voice gentle. Lance looks down.  _ What he needs...he cannot have.  _

 

 

Lance can hear the soft taps on the window. He curls up deeper in his blankets. A familiar soft voice whispers his name. Lance closes his eyes. The voice repeats his name louder. 

“Go away Keiran.”Lance growls sitting up and turning towards the offending Montagne standing on his balcony holding the door slightly open. Keiran frowns. 

“Lance c’mon.” Lance turns back over curling back into his blankets. “We had a bonding moment-I cradled you in my arms!” Lance snorts sitting back up. 

“Don’t remember- didn’t happen.” Keiran huffs in disbelief mouth opening and closing in anger. “Convenient thought, don’t you think, of this supposed bonding moment after weeks of no contact and complete and utter dismissal.” Lance chirps clasping his hand in front of him giving Keiran his fakest most bitter smile. 

“Lance-”

“Complete and utter dismissal Keiran. And I don’t suppose you’re here out of the goodness of your heart-no you’re here because you saw me in the marketplace with a member of your house!”

“Lance-”

“You showed up like a shining knight to sweep me of my feet, swooning, and you’d then lay claim my maidenhead like some sort of hero!” Lance huffs and hunches tired from his tirade. Lance swings his legs over the edge of the bed, facing Keiran full on. Keiran chuckles low, anger gone. 

“May I come in?” He asks ever playing the part of polite knight. Lance shakes his head but thinks better of it. 

“Yes I want to yell at you more.” Keiran slides through the door. 

“Lance I apologize for leaving you alone for weeks. I was unaware that it affected you so.” Keiran kneels by Lance’s side. He takes Lance’s hand and presses a kiss on it. Lance’s face heats up. “As for your maidenhead I cannot say.” He has the audacity to wink. Lance huffs fighting a grin. 

“Good sir! Watch your tongue,” Lance leaves his hand in Keith’s grip. It feels...nice.

“Why m’lady,” He purrs a grin on his face, “ I cannot help myself, you are the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever had the pleasure to look at.” Lance flushes red at the praise, even if it was a joke. Keith takes notice a grin overtaking his features. “Oh m’lady?” Deep flush. “Has no one told you of your immense beauty? That you outshine the jealous moon, even the noonday sun! Your smile is pure and joyous, even unto the death of fools like myself.” Lance couldn’t possibly be more red. 

“Keith,” Lance complains hiding his face. 

“Oh Lance, are you now the shy virgin- bashful at her lover’s praise?” He chuckles. Lance squeaks causing Keith to chuckle. “Let me see your beautiful face,” he murmurs pulling off Lance’s hands. Lance bites his lip feeling red all over. 

“I’ve could’ve said the same,” he whispers. A pink flush dusts Keith’s cheeks. Lance smiles staring into Keith’s grey eyes. Flecks of purple, blue, and green dance within it, the heavens within one being. All his anger, and bitterness from earlier just disintegrate replaced by a warm squishy feeling. A good warm squishy feeling. 

  
  


The door swings open and Lance pulls Keith’s head down, face flushing. His legs on either side of Keit wrap around the man to keep him still. A maid walks in and blinks. 

“Oh! Pardon me sir I thought you were talking to someone.” She flushes. “But I see I was mistaken. Please continue-I’ll make sure your sheets get washed in the morn sir.” She exits the room hastily, closing the door with a thud. Lance sighs in relief and lets his death grip on Keith’s head release. 

“Sorry,” Lance murmurs as Keith raises his head. Lance’s legs drop back to the sides. Keith smiles, a predatory thing. Lance shivers. A rabbit before the hound. 

“I didn’t mind,” Keith coyly says. He stands. “I should leave so you can finish. I’d hate for you to be unsatisfied.” He chuckles. Lance growls, face still cherry red. He whacks Keith with his pillow. 

“The only way I’d be unsatisfied is with you!” He snaps back. Keith staggers back as if wounded. 

“M’lady wounds me,” He exaggerates making Lance giggle. He stops suddenly and soberly places a kiss on Lance’s forehead. “God be with ye,” Keith smiles and disappears much like the time before. Except Keith turns right before he closes the door to give Lance one last look. Lance gaps after him mouth opening and closing like a flabbergasted fish.

“That scoundrel,” He grins finally touching his forehead. Despite his earlier words at Keith’s departure Lance does feel unsatisfied. He also feels lonely as if his bed was suddenly too large for just him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha it was fun to write this-especially the flirting. It's like they're a couple already but what can I say-my boys are idiots. :)  
> Stay tuned for the next chapter which includes: Hunk, Hunk friendship, and Hunk's aunt even though it's focused around Lance


	5. Do Not Swear By The Moon

His Mamà doesn’t say anything to get him out of the house. Quite the contrary, she fusses to make sure he isn’t doing anything too strenuous. He retires to his room early, leaving the door open. He limps into the washroom to fix his hair.

“Expecting someone?” a voice asks and Lance jumps in surprise. 

“Hunk! You frightened me!” Lance exclaims placing a hand over his heart. Hunk raise an eyebrow. “I’m not expecting someone.” Lance lies looking into the mirror and frowning as his fingers meet a knot. 

“Really? Then who did you see last night?” Hunk grins devilishly. Lance stills dread seeping into his bones. 

“How’d you know-who told you?!” Lance demands blood draining from his face. He feels strangely guilty as if trying to hide a sin. What sin? Lance forces his hands to move numbly tying his hair back. 

“You. Just now.” Lance groans at Hunk’s words. He was played like a fool’s violin. “Now tell me who has my friend all a-twitter!” Hunk claps his hands together like he has received the juiciest bit of gossip all year. Lance stutters heart stopping. 

“He-THEY!” His words leave a rancid taste in his mouth dripping into the air like a snail’s slime. Hunk’s face drops into a neutral expression and Lance burns. Hellfire licks his arms burning his core. 

“He?” Hunk’s voice is decidedly neutral and Lance can’t tell if that’s worse that screaming and spitting. “Who?” He questions. Lace ducks his head. The truth pours out from him, a fountain unable to be contained. 

“Keith.” Lance looks away and then back. Hunk blinks. 

“Keith, Keiran Montagne, your rival, has been coming to visit?” His voice isn’t full of disgust and malice. More.. more of disbelief than anything. 

“Yes...although for a rival he is very tactile Hunk It’s strange.” Lance word vomits face burning. He pulls at his locks. He tucks a long strand behind his ear. Maybe he should cut it all off. Lance’s voice wavers worse than the sea on a stormy day. Hunk smiles, a small thing that quickly grows. 

“I am glad.” Lance turns so fast his neck burns but he doesn’t care. “This could be the end of that stupid vendetta.” Lance nods numb to Hunk’s words. He’s still having trouble comprehending the first sentence. Lance’s finger fly to his hair unconsciously and weave it into a simplistic braid. Hunk helps Lance braiding a light blue ribbon through his hair. 

“Should I ask Veronica for a corset as well?” Hunk teases earning a slap from Lance. “You know,” He says deft fingers weaving the ribbon through, “I have half a mind to stay, if he breaks your heart it is my duty to make sure the next breath is his last.” Lance laughs relief radiating from his core. Happy tears prick the corner of his eyes.  Lance lightly hits Hunk’s shoulders. “In all seriousness I am glad for you Lance.” Hunk kisses Lance’s forehead in goodbye. Lance smiles standing with Hunk and walking into his room. “Be safe,” Hunk says giving Lance a hug before he’s stepping away. Lance sits on the end of his bed waiting, nerves alight. 

 

A knock at the window jerks Lance awake and consequently out of his bed. Keith is at his side in a second, picking him up. He places Lance on his bed, checking for injuries. Lance smiles softly, the brief shock wearing off. 

“Keith,” He says drawing Keith’s attention. He lifts his fingers to run across the other’s face, fingertips burning as they touch him. “You came.” His chest grows warm, a smile curling on his face. Keith softens, the worry lines smoothing out. 

“Of course. Couldn’t leave you all alone my star,” Keith whispers reverently his own hands cupping Lance’s face. At the touch Lance let’s his eyes flutter shut, focusing on the movement of Keith’s fingers across his skin. Lance opens one eye gazing at Keith quizzically. 

“Star?” He questions. Keith’s fingers still on his face. Lance has no qualms about the strange nickname but he wonders the thought process behind it.  Keith’s face turns a lovely shade of pink, his eyes blazing as he refuses to look Lance in the eye. 

“You are my star, my light in the dark.” Lance blushes at the sweet phrase, the nickname more touching than he thought. Lance tries to hide himself with a smile. “My star what has you so happy?” Keith asks scooting by Lance’s side. 

“Just you my sun,” Lance says testing out a nickname. It suits the raven haired Montagne. Keith’s eyebrows tick upward and Lance stiffles his giggles. “If I am your Star, you are my Sun, the light and life of my world. My days is brighter and better with you in it.” The words pour from his mouth before he can stop them, a confession that he hadn’t intended. Keith blushes a pretty red on his nose and cheeks. A smile curls on his face soft and small. His eyes burn with the same warmth Lance feels in his chest. “Red suits you my Sun.” The blush turns even more red and Keith worms his arms around Lance. “Oh.” Lance murmurs intelligently. 

“My star,” he whispers. “I promise not to leave you alone again.” Lance giggles his own face red. 

“Even at the chamber pot?” 

“-unless you wish to be alone.” Keith amends. 

“What if I don’t want to be alone at the chamber pot?” He cheekily asks. Keith press his nose in the juncture between Lance’s neck and collarbone with a fond sigh. Lance laughs as Keith noses his sensitive skin. Keith draws back, a wicked gleam in his eyes. 

“Are you ticklish my Star?” He asks. Lance pales at the implication. 

“N-no..?” His voice squeaks doing a poor job of convincing either one. Keith lunges forward, his lithe fingers digging into Lance’s sides. Lance laughs as Keith attacks him, trying to push Keith off. Keith grins as he pushes his fingers straight under Lance’s arms. Lance thrashes giggling in a panic, head thrown back. He kicks his bad leg up and hits Keith with an oof. Lance freezes as Keith leans forward, no longer under assault from Keith. Keith quickly moves to the side as Lance curls up with a moan. 

“My star!” Keith cries hand touching Lance’s shoulder. Lance groans, letting the pain pass into a dull throb. “Tell me what to do.” Keith pleads hand clenching and unclenching around Lance’s shoulder. Keith sounds frantic. Lance bites back a smirk at this golden opportunity that has presented itself. 

“My Sun, I need a warm rag, two loaves of bread, and a glass of wine.” He groans dramatically. Keith kisses his forehead and Lance freezes. Where did the Montagne pick up that? Keith stands after the goodbye kiss and leaves. Lance watches him go, jaw slack and wide eyed. 

“Oh my” He says softly. 

 

Keith returns red-faced, from exhaustion this time, and out of breath some time later. It hasn’t been that long, but long enough for Lance to miss Keith’s presence so deeply he wishes he never pulled the prank. A few minutes possibly. 

“My Star!” Keith cries sounding both proud and worried. “I have collected everything you asked-why are you laughing?” The confused Montagne stops by Lance’s side puzzlement straining his brow. Lance sits up, laughing profusely. 

“Oh my sun- I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” Lance gasps out between laughs. To him it seems the funniest thing in the world. Keith places the items next to Lance on the small end table. He stops, loaf hovering over the surface of said end table. Keith glares at Lance, anger brewing at being tricked and played with and then laugh at. Lance continues to laugh, unable to stop himself. “Oh my sun!” Lance cries collecting himself. When suitably controlled he turns to Keith. “Thank you.” He says sincerely as he can. He reaches from the warm rage and holds it for a moment against his face. The warmth feels heavenly against his skin. 

“Lance!” Keith chastises but does nothing to Lance. He merely watches with an exasperated expression. Lance moves the rag from his face to his duly throbbing knee. It feels even better pressed against his injury. Lance tilts his head back in pleasure. 

“I am sorry- but I wanted some bread and you asked what you could do,” Lance explains with a shrug eyes still closed. Keith sighs unable to keep his anger alight and directed at Lance. 

“My star, tell me next time please. No trickery. I will get you anything short of the heavens for you.” Keith promises. Lance blushes in fondness and guilt. He has never had someone promise him anything before. It feels...nice. Keith passes a loaf to Lance who breaks it in half and offers it to his supposed rival. Keith takes it and the pair eats in silence.

“I must go my Star,”  Keith says dropping a kiss on Lance’s forehead. “I will return on the morrow my Star.” Keith escapes, closing the door gently and leaping off the balcony. 

  
  


Lance squirms underneath Hunk’s touch waiting impatiently for the day to close so Keith will arrive. Hunk tugs at his ear to get him still. 

“If you don’t sit still it won’t look good,” Hunk chastises. Lance murmurs an apology, antsy for Hunk to be done, leave and for Keith to come. “There!” Hunk cries passing a mirror so Lance can see Hunk’s handywork. A line of blue beads run from his ear to the base of his neck. Three large ribbons cut through the tight braid, two vibrant red and one gleaming silver. It gives the appearance of an exotic fish.

“Thank you Hunk,” Lance says hugging his blood brother. 

“Keith will love it.” Lance pulls away a neutral expression on his face. “I’ve spent time with Keith today,” Hunk continues on unnoticing Lance’s mood change. “He is rather awkward,” Hunk chuckles. Lance smiles pleasant memories dancing in his head. 

“Adorable,” Lance adds quietly. 

“Yes I can agree with that. Although Keith seems rather adverse to touch.” Hunk mutters distracted as he plucks at a tear on Lance’s undershirt probably trying to remember for later so he can mend it. 

“What are you talking about?” Lance asks brow furrowed. “Keith loves to-” Lance drops off the realization about what he was going to say boiling in his veins. 

“Touch you?” Hunk asks slyly. Lance face goes pale and then red, anger bubbling. 

“NO! Hunk! I’m NOT a SINNER!” Lance hisses a combination of disgust and panic mingling in his stomach and climbing up his gut. Hunk looks taken aback hands stilling. Silence, terse heavy silence falls upon the pair. 

“With that logic I guess my Aunt is doomed to hell” Hunk says cold. Lance freezes, confusion clouding his head.  

“...your aunt?” Lance’s voice is small, almost not there. 

“Yes. She was burned to death because they caught her with another woman Lance.” He says fingers messing with Lance’s shirt aimlessly now. Lance vaguely recalls an Aunt but it can’t-

“Wasn’t she the nun who cared for the orphanage?” Sister Veneir, respected by all of the town during her life, prized even- and then nothing. Hunk shakes his head. 

“She cared for the elderly, and brought sweet treats for the orphans,” he corrects. Lance hums. He sort of remembers her, and now he understands why her name was even considered a taboo. He met her once, she was sweet and snuck him some diriolas. She always seemed like such a devoted nun, and always wondered why no one ever mentioned her. 

“When I was little, she saved my life,” Hunk reveals lips pursed in a thin line. “If she’s going to hell then I have no hope left in God.” Lance looks at Hunk, rage and fire circling in his friends once peaceful eyes. Lance shivers at the righteous fury buried there. Lance doesn’t dare argue afraid of the being in front of him. Without cause or warning a small flicker of hope flares within in his chest.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know she saved you.” Lance turns slightly to be free of that intense gaze. Hunk grunts. 

“I find it doesn’t change people’s opinions of her. They only care about who she loved, and not what she did.” Lance nods along to Hunk’s words. Disgust, hope, fear, and hate wage war inside him, all wanting Lance as a prize. 

“Okay Hunk,” Lance says in response to a question never asked and a statement never voiced. “Okay.”

  
  


Lance is quiet when Hunk returns the next day playing with the trinkets collected by his raven haired rival and given to him. 

“Do you think Keith is trying to court you?” Hunk asks somberly. 

“Course Not!” Lance exclaims hurriedly. “..course not.” He murmurs quieter as if trying to convince himself. He clutches hard and the trinket breaks. Hunk takes it from him, but Lance doesn’t notice. A storm boils underneath his skin. He is lost, confused, and scared. Hunk’s words repeat themselves.  _ ‘Going to hell, I have no hope in God.’  _ He stays like that until Keith comes to him with a wide smile, vibrant eyes, and another trinket in hand. 

"This one reminded me of you,” He says his eyes glistening with joy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...yeah. Have fun with this. :)


	6. Brawling Love, Loving Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance discovers his mouth runs faster than his brain, and his family is.... pretty intense.

Lance drapes himself across the balcony looking out. The sun still lazily bobs in the sky, dark clouds surrounding it promising rain. Keith is nowhere in sight, but Lance doesn’t expect him to be. 

“Oh what’s in a name?” Lance sighs watching his brother teach his nephews sword fighting their targets dressed in a deep blue. “What’s a Montagne? Who is he but a man?” Lance sighs cupping his face. 

“Aren’t a man? Am I not also a Capelti? And who is a Capelti? ‘Tis I. Only my birth marks me as such and I had no control o’er that.” Lance watches a bird dip and dive through the trees, the faint clashing of swords breaking the peaceful silence.

“If I was not a Capelti would I still be me- or perhaps if I was born a woman would we still circle each other? Oh were I not born as I was-If I wasn’t born at all!” Lance turns sick of watching birds, sick of the peaceful scenery. He’s sick of the vibrant green of life that mocks him with its color. 

“A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.” Lance says fingers pressing a rose, it’s soft petals giving away in his grip and falling. “No these roses only grow because life permits them to, her cruel hands choking out spirit of poorer grounds. If placed within different grounds they would shrivel and decay. Oh how I envy the rose! A simplistic life! But alas I am a Capelti, I am not a rose.” Lance sighs ending his rant. His thoughts still twist and turn but he does feel better for voicing them. Crickets chirp as the sun all but disappears.. 

“I am grateful you aren’t a rose,” a deep voice calls out. Lance spins around to see the cheeky Montagne. 

“Keith! The sun still sheds her rays! If my kinsmen find you our broken treaty will utterly be destroyed. “ Lance says looking around for any of his siblings. Keith climbs the ivy alongside the balcony dangling precariously. 

“Fear not my star. No one will find me. My rose.” Keith wrinkles his nose at the new nickname. “No. not a rose. I’d hate for you to be plucked so carelessly from life.” Keith says. He perks up quickly after. “Here,” he says pushing a rose into Lance’s hands-thornless and as red as blood. Keith flushes a pretty pink. Lance takes it, worry still etched into his face. 

“Don’t worry my Star- I just-I” Keith stammers. Lance places a hand on Keiths’ shoulder. Dark clouds drift together overhead- the long promise of rain finally fulfilled.  “Lance,” Keith says gathering his courage. His voice grows in volume. “I love you!” For a moment Lance believes lightning has struck him. Shock buries in his chest freezing his heart and veins. His mind turns blank as numbness sets in. “I wish to court you officially.” Lance just stands, an ocean tossing in his soul. “Lance?” Keith asks. 

“Leave,” Lance murmurs his lips numb. He feels so cold. Keith frowns.

“That’s it? I bare my soul to you and you wish for me to leave?!” Keith growls. Lance rocks backwards. Words pour from his mouth unbidden and unwanted. 

“I didn’t ask for your soul or your affections. I don’t want them.” Guilt squeezes his heart, bile on his tongue. “I am no sinner.” Keith steps back as if hit. 

“A sinner is that what you think I am?” Keith spits. Lance wants to deny it, say something that will make it all better, that will lessen the pain inside. He cannot do anything but watch in numb horror as more words spew from his mouth. 

“I am confined to the half life of a cripple because of you Montagnes. I could think of you no other way.” Keith's’ eyes drop to the ground tightening. He turns, stiff as a board. Lance’s heart shudders in pain, crying out for Keith to turn around. He does nothing of the sort. His legs give out and Lance slides to his knees. His fingers brush against a flower. A dark red rose lays to his left. He picks it up. Red. A light drizzle starts to come down from the sky. He doesn’t feel it, intently watching the rose.

 

A maid finds him and ushers him into the house fussing as she tries to peel his thoroughly soaked clothes. He protests as she takes the rose from him. 

“It’s alright-look it’s in a vase. It’s okay.” She murmurs gesturing to the vase. She pulls his blankets over him, pushing him into his bed. “Sleep Master.” His eyelids fall seemingly of their own accord.

  
  


Lance awakes warm, too warm. He groans turning. Sweat clings to his forehead. 

“Luis?” he croaks eyes on his brother. Luis cracks a smile, pressing a cold rag onto Lance’s brow. 

“Little brother why were you outside in the rain?” Lance closes his eyes at the touch. He groans softly. “Little brother you need to drink You have a fever.” Luis mutter placing a cup against Lance’s lips. Lance guzzles the water, the unconscious itch of his parched throat finally becoming quenched. He whines when Luis drags it away. 

“Hush little brother,” His brother says flipping the rag. “Little brother why were you outside in the rain?” He asks again repeating the question from earlier. Lance huffs taking a while before answering.

“To meet someone.” Luis tsks but continues fussing over Lance. Lance closes his eyes.

“I am sorry. I wish I could take away your pain.” Lance cracks a small smile. 

“Just a fever,” he murmurs moving his hand over his brother’s. 

“Wasn’t talking about the fever.” Luis press a kiss on Lance’s hand Silence descends over the pair like a gossamer curtain. “Ah Lance I’m sure you’ll love this news. Keiran Montagne-your rival- was banished from the city a few days ago.” Lance sits up eyes flying open. Dizziness rocks his vision and min. Luis steadies Lance chuckling quietly mistaking his shock for giddy disbelief. “Yessm. A day after you collapse in fever, Keiran started a fight in the marketplace. Marcus saw it. He said Keiran was a demon, fist flying hitting everything in sight.” Luis pauses. “Marcus said his face was the worst part- twisted with anger and fear as if he truly did burn in the fires of hell and it changed him.” Lance sits almost numbly. “An innocent soul burns in hellfire and twists into a true demon.” He mutters an image of Keith’s face ontroting into grief, pain, and anger. His grey eyes turning stormy, hands clenching. 

Lance almost doesn’t hear luis mutter, “Was strange too- he never touched his sword.” Lance hears  no more, the same storm in Keith rages in him. Luis tucks Lance in and wets the rag, staying by Lance’s side until Lance falls asleep, darkness dragging him under.

 

Lance awakes again still warm but much better. His fever must be all but gone. He moves around. The next day the fever is completely gone. Hunk visits him, gripping Lance tight. He sits directly next to Lance, who worries his hands.

“Lance I heard from your brother that you suffered heartbreak a week ago.” Lance says nothing but twists his hands in his shirt. “Oh Lance,” Hunk says gathering Lance in his arms. Lance lets out a sobs, tears running down his face. Hunk pats his back as Lance sobs hiccuping. The tears slow down to sniggles. Hunk waits patiently, a wonderful friend. 

“He came with a rose.” Lance starts head still tucked in Hunk’s shoulder. Hunk hums encouraging Lance to continue. “He gave it to me,” Lance turns. The sad wilted rose mocks him. “He-told me he loved me.” Lance sniffs tear threatening to spill again. Hunk hums. “I-I said so many things Hunk. I told him to leave! That he would burn in hell because of what was taken from me.” Lance sos removing himself from Hunk and burying his face in his hands. Hunk’s quiet for a moment.

“Do you love him?” He asks. 

“No!...yes?” Lance vehemently declares and then weakly trails off. “I don’t know Hunk. I want to be with him but a part of me reels in disgust. My heart and mind wage war and I’m the battleground.” Lance sniffs wiping at his his eyes.

“Did you mean what you said?” Lance looks up, a no thrown forth from his lips with the force of an arrow. Hunk’s lips twitch upwards. “Does you heart skip a beat when he smiles?” Lance nods, slowly. “Do you want to be by his side and make him smile?” Lance nods more vigorously, still confused. “What is love?” Hunk prompts Lance.

“It’s spending time with another, being by their side and making them smile. It’s wishing for their success and…” Lance trails off realization donning. “I’m in love with Keith.” He whispers first in disbelief and then again with happiness bubbling in his veins. Quickly it’s dashed by despair. “Hunk! What do I do he’s gone!” Hunk look lost face twisting in puzzlement. He lights up a grin overtaking his features. 

“I have a wonderful idea,” He chuckles. Lance briefly fears for his life. 

 

Lance hands on the cart, legs dangling beneath him. A hood conceals most of his face and body, but not the hem of the dress. The corset makes it difficult to breath, more so than he thought. The slippers as well pinch his feet. He stays still head down. Hunk stops the cart and moves away to grab something. Just one more gate… A quiet voice stops. 

“Lance my boy- what are you up to? Friar Coran asks stepping to the side of the stationary cart. Lance glances around but noone is around. 

“I’m seeing someone,” he hisses quietly. Coran strokes his mustache.

“Ah young love. It wouldn’t be Keith montagne now would it?” Coran whispers back with a grin. Lance freezes in fear. “Don’t worry m’boy. You are in safe company.”  Lance lets out a sigh of relief, a small smile making its way onto his face. 

“Oh yes-except he is unaware of my coming.” Corans face takes on a fearful look glancing over Lance’s shoulder. Lance is quick to try and explain it’s not as bad as it seems. “Keith left before I had the opportunity to confess my love as well.”

“Keith Keiran Montagne?” Another voice angrily interjects. Lance pales and turns, his three siblings standing menacingly behind him. Marcus is red with fury, Veronica looks ready to stab someone but Luis just gazes sadly at Lance. 

“We noticed you were missing and what do we find but you sneaking off and-” Marcus spits trailing off. “Get Lance.” He orders. Veronica and Luis step forward. Luis is quicker at getting to Lance and scoops him up. 

“I’ve got him,” Luis says as Hunk comes back. 

“What are you-” Hunk begins but is stopped by Coran. Lance buries his face in Luis neck, half listening to Luis soft apologies. Luis begins the walk towards his home. Lance cries into Luis shoulder as Luis tries to soothe him. Marcus enters the house first, Luis trailing behind on purpose to give Lance a few moments of freedom. Marcus talks to his Mamà, she gasps dramatically hand covering her mouth. She looks at Lance horror crossing her features. 

“Leandro!” She chastises, horror plain. “How could you do this?” She takes a breath as if stealing herself. “I don’t know you anymore.” Luis tightens his hold as Lance whimpers. He knows he’ll be disowned. He knows.

“Mamà, I’ll be taking La-Leandro to bed. Tomorrow we can discuss more. For now let’s sleep.” Luis carries Lance into his room, laying him on his bed. 

“My little brother.” He kisses Lance’s forehead. “No matter what, you will be my baby brother.” Luis leaves a sad look on his face. Lance cries burying his face into his pillow. He numbly plucks at the strings of the corset, fat tears falling onto the skirt. He tears it off, throwing the garment away. He collapses and lets his tears drag sleep over him. His last thought is a wish they he were the rose plucked from life rather than a Capelti. 

 

A gentle shake awakes him from his slumber. Lance buries deeper into his bed in a futile attempt to block the horrors of yesterday.

“Lance,” a stern yet welcome voice says. Lance jolts upward, stumbling on uncertain legs. He wraps his arms around Coran. 

“Oh Coran.” Lance rejoices. “Why are you here?” He asks pushing Coran at arm’s length his suspicion growing. 

“They believe it’d be best if you consulted with me to dissuade you from the path you’re currently on.” Lance frowns. “But I’m not going to dissuade you. I offer a way out.” Coran pulls out a little vial. “This vial contains a potion which will cause a death-like sleep.” Coran hands it to Lance. “I will come retrieve you after the funeral and you’ll be able to live free. Course there are downsides-” Lance uncorks the potion. “Wait! Lay down before you drink it. Wouldn’t want you to fall m’boy.” Lance sits down and drinks it. Coran and Lance blink at each other. 

“When will it-” Lance falls back as if dead. Coran smiles and exits the room. 

“Friar-” Lady Capelti says. “How-how is he?” Coran looks at the floor. 

“He was rather unresponsive m’lady. At the end however, he seemed sorrowful.” Lady Capelti sighs.

“Oh my son. A Montagne. A man. Oh my son.” Coran places a hand on Lady Capelti’s shoulder. 

“A soul can only be save through love- the Great Love of God.” He murmurs. 

“You’re right- he’s my son and I love him.” Coran feels a stab of guilt but what’s done is done. Coran leaves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just my interpretation of homophobia in ~1600s Italy, influenced heavily by Catholicism. I tried.


	7. I Defy You Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NO ONE DIES! Also Keith and Lance are horrible pranksters.

When Lance is discovered, immediately the Capelti’s go into mourning and rumors fly. The funeral is quick but large, parade carrying Lance’s body to Capelti Crypt. Servants murmur quietly in their houses careful not to do so within earshot of Lady Capelti, Marcus, and Veronica. Luis, being more even tempered, hears much.

“Poor Capelti-poisoned himself to get out of an arranged marriage with Queen Honerva.”

“I heard the prince mistook him for a girl and wedded him. On the their wedding the night in Prince in outrage killed him.”

“I heard he was sleeping with the baker.” On and on the rumors flew. Circling like vultures.  

As Lance was laid to rest Lady Capelti clasped her hands apologizing to her still son, pleading for another chance.

“Oh Lord, if my baby will come back I-I will stop trying to change him and allow him to wed his love.” Marcus frowns.

“Mamà-”

“Hush! We all know why my baby is dead. Oh heavens cry, world weep, for a star has died.” She places a kiss on Lance’s cold forehead and walks away dabbing at her eyes. Luis creeps forward and puts a rose underneath Lance’s hand.

“Oh brother- little brother. I am sorry. I was meant to be your protector- but I failed you. Please God, he was pure.” Luis kisses him goodbye. Veronica steps forward.

“You always tried to be good Lance. I’m-I’m sorry. If only you were alive so I could tell this to you myself. I miss you-and I was foolish to believe anything could change that.” She kisses him and steps back. Marcus stars at the ashen form of his little brother, the only other presence is Hunk and the small band of Capelti.

“Leandro,” He begins voice thick trying to remain composed. Tears slip onto his cheeks.

“Everything they told to me says you’ll go to hell, but everytime I see you I see a smiling babe trying to save a dying bird, fiercely telling off any who stood in you way, careful fingers wrapping up its wounds. I see a smiling child chasing butterflies and crying when they wouldn’t climb over your arms. I see you, older, but still full of fire, gazing at the the thousands of stars, still carrying a naive innocence. I can see you- and they tell me you’ll burn. Oh how can the boy who tried to save every injured bird, dog, and man in their path burn. How can God let you burn with all that knowledge?” Marcus breaks off sobbing harder. “It’s not fair! Why did you have to die?! Why did any of this have to happen?” Marcus hits the slab by Lance’s head. Lance remains silent as the dead tend to do. Veronica tugs the hysterical Capelti away.“Hunk will you watch over this tomb? I fear the Montagne’s will desecrate Lance’s grave.” Veronica asks maneuvering her family away. Hunk nods.

“On my honor,” he says as they leave. He turns to his blood brother tears gathering in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left for even a second.” Coran places a hand on Hunk’s shoulder.

“M’boy let’s not place blame. Lance will come back and beat you with a wooden spoon.” Hunk bitterly laughs. Of course Lance would.

 

Keith storms through the city in a simple cloak. Shiro and Black trail behind him. Shiro unsuccessfully tries to get him to stop.

“Keith this is a bad idea-nay a terrible one! You’ve been exiled!” Shiro moans trying to reason with him. “Oh Pidge and Allura!” He says trying to wave them down the darkened city. A recipe for more than a few broken bones. Thankfully the pair recognizes the other pair.

“Oh Keith,” Allura greets the raven haired man. Her keen eyes soften regarding the Montagnes. “Come. We shall go together.” She knows. Pidge and Allura fall by their side trailing towards the Capelti’s tomb.The air between them all is tense, a somber sense curling around them. The archway is deathly gray with darkness curled behind it.

“Please, I must go alone,” Keith says stepping forward. Allura steps as well but stops when Pidge laces her finger with Allura’s. A shadow steps forward revealing a wide armed darked eyed Capelti. Keith has seen him before-but he doesn’t remember his name.

“Keiran Montagne. Why are you here risking death to visit the dead? Or is it your intent more malicious?” He growls hand moving onto his sword. Keith raise his hands in surrender.

“I wish to pay respects-nothing more.” The dark giant scowls unreadable emotions flashing in his eyes. Then everything falls and the giant moves. He moves to the side wordlessly allowing Keith in. Keith enters the tomb. Torches cast dim light over the stone grey interior. Dozens of closed tombs line the walls, some even carved into it. An ashen figure lays in a opened tomb, arms cross dressed in Capelti orange.

“Lance,” Keith breaths hands fluttering against Lance’s cheeks. “Oh Lance,” Keith whispers faint tears dripping from his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’ve gone and died and it’s my fault.” Keith bows his head touching Lance’s chest. If he closes his eyes he can pretend Lance breathes. “Oh Lance.” Keith whispers to Lance’s chest. He open his belt and draws a vile full of orange liquid out from it. He uncorks the vile staring at Lance’s face. Slowly he bring it to his lips. Keith stares before lowering the vial. He corks it.

“I cannot. I thought my desire for you would guide me- but how would you greet me? More disgust but anger as well. I couldn’t. You were my stars, you were life. To take my own life instead of give it-no. You were my life- I suppose I am now yours.” Keith claps his hand over Lance’s. “Goodbye. I will live for you, Lance.” Keith stands and walks away. The ashen figure stirs, eyes blinking blearily. His eyes roll to one side catching Keith as he leave.

“Keith,” he croaks throat unused to speaking after such a long time. Keith stills arms out. He slowly turns, eyes wide.

“Lance?” he breathes out voice shaking.

“Keith,” Lance croaks again blinking at the Montagne.

“Lance is it you? Or do my eyes deceive me? Is this a miracle or some heinous witchcraft?” Lance blinks slowly sit up at terribly sedate pace.His muscles ache in protest as Lance moves. Keith’s relief fades rather quickly.  “Was this some cruel joke? A mockery?” Keith hisses moving into arms distance. “Was this all a joke to you?” He reiterates sadly. He turns shoulders ridgid. “I leave my heart behind me.” He starts to stride out. Lance panics teaching for the Montagne. He falls, legs refusing to work. His body meet the ground with a dull thud. A soft whine escapes from his throat. Surprisingly Keith is by his side in a moment, concern on his face and a shimmering in his eyes. Bright yet constricting. Lance knows what it is now. He recognizes it within himself.

“Keith,” He mutters drawing the man’s attention away from Lance’s possible injuries.

‘Yes Lance?” he asks earnestly despite the intense anger he harbored before.

“Do you still love me?” He asks. Keith’s eyes widen, mouth dropping into a frown, his brow pinching.

“Yes Lance. I love you,” He whispers as if afraid. Lance breaths out his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When he opens them his eyes shine with intensity.

“Good.” Lance pushes forward lips meeting Keith’s own. Keith is frozen beneath his touch, unresponsive. Lance pulls back, face slightly warm compared to his cold body. He flicks his eyes to the ground too flustered to do anything else. Keith’s hand tilts Lance’s chin up and they’re kissing. Lance gasps and Keith pulls back an infatuated smile on his lips.

“I love you,” Lance whispers a giddy smile on his face.

“I’m actually not sure if I love you anymore,” Keith says fighting off a grin. Lance squawks smacking Keith. “Just a joke my love, my star.” Keith admits wrapping Lance in his arms pressing a quick kiss to his nose. Keith stands hold Lance up by his arm. Lance’s feet are unable to support his weight, fumbling over themselves. Keith swings Lance up, legs grabbed and supported right under the knee.

“What a blushing bride,” Lance mutters sarcastically tucking his face into Keith’s neck. Keith laughs shoulder bouncing up and down.

“My star are you ready? You friends are waiting-”

“Our friends.” Lance corrects. He nods hair bouncing against Keith’s cheek.

“Our friends,” Keith says kissing Lance’s head. Lance giggles. Keith smiles, face pressed into Lance’s hair. He starts moving carrying Lance towards the entrance. Lance falls limp in his arms, a faint grin curved on his cheek, the only sign of life. Keith sighs softly. He steps out into a spirited argument.

 

Shiro meets his eyes first gaze widening as he takes stock of Lance in Keith’s arms. As if Keith is stealing Lance’s body.

“I am ready,” he proclaims drawing attention to himself. “Let’s escape before we’re caught.” Four pairs of eyes blink at him in various levels of shock.

“Keith- what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Pidge asks brow furrowed. Keith blinks channeling his inner actor.

“I am leaving Pidge.” He states trying to sound confused. Lance bites Keith’s shirt to stifle his laughter.

“Keith, put Lance back,” Shiro sighs as if exhausted. Keith looks down.

“But I need this.” Lance tries to stop his shaking from being noticed. The four (except Black bless his doggy heart) look at Keith as if he’s ill. “Let’s go.” Keith start walking. The giant from earlier steps in front of Keith a scowl on his face.

“That is my best friend- you will not have your way you- you corpse stealer!” He snarls and Lance can’t hold it in anymore. He laughs, whole body shaking. Pidge gasps.

“THE DEVIL!” She screeches launching herself towards Lance. Lance shrieks, the giant yells, Shiro faints and Allura growls. Black licks at Shiro’s face. Keith literally has to kick Pidge away.

“Calm down!” He shouts cradling the Capelti in his arms.

“Hello Hunk,” Lance murmurs hand out. The gentle giant grasps it tears falling from his eyes. Oh that’s his name. Hunk yanks the pair forward into his arms, pulling both into an intense hug.

“Oh Lance,” he moans before jumping back in anger. “I mourned you! What changeling have you brought here?!” He accuses both Lance and Keith. Lance collapses against Keith’s chest.

“Oh Hunk I had no choice. The longer they debated my disownment the more shame upon my family I’d bring. I simply let my family avoid the whole debate. ‘Twas better this way.” Lance explains. Keith presses a kiss to Lance’s cheek. Pidge shudders.

“Ugh affection,” She sneers. Allura wraps her arms around Pidge who positively melts. Keith smiles as Lance laughs.

“Ugh affection,” He calls out earning a half-hearted glare from Pidge. Hunk clears his throat from Shiro’s side.

“Lance you cannot stay here.” Lance nods immediately smile falling. “Leave. I’ll take care of the tomb. Keith take of him.” With a nod Keith hauls Lance up.

“Wait!” Allura cries. She removes her cloak and fits it around Lance’s shoulders in an effort to hide the Capelti orange.

“Thank you,” He whispers. Allura tucks the hood over his head, his blue eyes shining. Keith flees Lance watching over Keith’s shoulder until they’re out of sight.

“They’re so cute,” Allura sighs.

“Who’s cute?” Shiro ask from the ground. Pidge screeches and kicks Shiro. Shiro groans and falls back onto the ground.

“Pidge I love you but please stop hitting people,” Allura sighs.


	8. Come Gentle Night

Lance hums wiggling his toes as the cart bounces along the dirt path. Keith looks back every so often, smiling to himself. 

“KEith! Stop!” Lance cries and Keith stops. 

“What is it?” He asks. Lance wobbly gets up and limps over to the side of the road. Lance’s small breakfast makes a reappearance. Keith pats Lance’s, running up and down his spin before tangling up in his recently cut hair-short and soft. Lance groans wiping his mouth. 

“Let’s continue,” Lance says clutching at Keith. Keith helps him walk to the cart and sits him down. 

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there.” Lance rolls his eyes and groans.

“You’ve been saying that since mid morning!” Lance his face in his hands. Keith laughs but says nothing more. 

  
  


Lance stares at the small house. A servants’ house. Keith walks up to the house and throws open the door. Lance hobbles forward, critically eying the burnt ill-tended garden and land. Inside it’s...quaint. Polished wood floors and intricate designs that mimic the ones in Verona. Keith stands in one of the two rooms hands twisting together. 

“It’s pretty,” Lance says wrapping himself around Keith. Keith blushes. 

“There’s more above,” He says leading Lance upstairs. A single bed lies in only one of the rooms. 

“Eager are we?” Lance teases a blushing Keith. 

“That’s the place,” Keith mumbles against Lance’s collarbone as he wraps him up, hands splayed against Lance’s stomach. 

“I guess it’ll do.” Keith grins against Lance’s neck. Lance spins around. “I get the garden right?” Keith nods. 

“Anything for you my star,” he says rubbing Lance’s cheekbones with his thumbs. Lance giddily smiles. 

“Great! When do the servants arrive?” Lance asks. Keith raises an eyebrow. 

“My star we can’t afford one.” Lance gapes. “At least we have each other. The rest will come around.” Keith murmurs. Lance huffs but it’s weak. 

“I don’t suppose we have wine?”

“‘Course.” Lance smiles tucking his head under Keith’s chin pressing a quick kiss to his neck. 

“Then I have everything I need. Wine and,” Lance move up pressing a kiss to Keith’s jaw. “You.” Keith tilts his head and captures Lance’s lips in his own. They kiss in their own little house, their own little world perfect around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. The End. Fin. :D

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I'm kinda disappointed there aren't more Romeo & Juliet aus. It fits them so well and has the whole rivals to lovers trope that the fandom goes crazy for. If y'all aint going to make Romeo & Juliet aus guess it's going to be me. 
> 
> Well anyway Enjoy!


End file.
